


Feel Like Falling

by MonochromeSpark



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Prowl doesn't die AU, spark without a frame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-07 00:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11047911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonochromeSpark/pseuds/MonochromeSpark
Summary: This fic takes place after the events of The Transformers: The Movie, in a reality where Prowl's spark survives Decepticon attack on the shuttle.





	Feel Like Falling

_“A sudden spark ignites a sea of diamonds_  
_And from the dark a light breaks the silence_  
 _We made a tear in time with love like lions_  
 _A simple spark_  
 _Ignites_  
 _Ignites”_  

_[Digital Daggers - Feel Like Falling]_

 

For a spark suspended somewhere in a space outside of a frame there was no time; there weren’t any days or weeks, minutes or seconds - time was an abstract concepts of no importance. Why would it matter to a being consisting of emotions and pure energy? There was just _existence_ , somewhere outside of the matters and concerns of normal mechs and femmes.

The spark couldn’t think like a normal Cybertronian, couldn’t see; its existence was one of pure emotions and glimpses of the past feelings, pulses of energy, small tendrils extending towards the objects of its interest, trying to reach for _another_ that was so close, yet still not close enough to touch.

The spark, however, even in this strange state of being suspended somewhere between death and real life could never forget its own identity.

The spark was _Prowl_.

Perhaps a normal mech could explain the exact meaning of this word, this name, just like a dictionary would. But for a simple being of energy the word itself had no conventional meaning, as the spark couldn’t speak or understand normal words. It did, however, have its own way of understanding.

 _Prowl_ was _serve and protect_.

 _Prowl_ was _bravery_ , _pride, calm,_ but also lingering _guilt_ , heavy and dark.

But this wasn’t all.

Because _Prowl_ was just a half of something _more_ , something much _greater_.

The spark wouldn’t be able to explain what spark bonds were or how they actually worked - and had absolutely no need for this.

 _Prowl_ was a half of _Jazz_ , just like _Jazz_ was a half of _Prowl_.

 _Together_ they were _whole_.

 _Two_ were _one_.

It felt natural and simply _right_.

There was a subtle difference now, one that wasn’t there in the past - _Prowl_ was suspended in a protective container, _Jazz_ was a spark connected to a frame; a full mech, not just a living echo of one. Not just a spark.

 _Prowl_ used to be a full mech with a frame too, the spark knew this, _remembered_ in some ways. Those weren’t the same memories that would be saved into one’s memory bank, no. There were no images or sounds, no exact events - just feelings, emotions and sensations, but there were enough to _know_.

The spark didn’t know how _exactly_ it lost its safe shelter of a frame though, had no knowledge of shuttles and attacks, Decepticons and gunshots. It knew there was rush of adrenaline, bravery and calm mixed with uncertainty, then overwhelming moment of fear and pure panic. Pain.

Panic, fear and pain of the spark. _Prowl_.

Panic, fear and pain of _Jazz_ somewhere far away; a distant sensation across the bond.

 _I love you_.

Then there was stillness. Quiet determination of the spark to survive no matter what, even as the frame didn’t respond, wouldn’t move. Hot and cold, and the spark was flickering, weaker and weaker, but it refused to be extinguished, clinging desperately to the faint echoes of its other half. But _Jazz_ wasn’t close and the spark was alone, fighting to survive, thin tendrils of energy slowly extending to examine the shattered spark casing, only to retreat a second later, curling tightly into a small flickering ball again.

Longing. Alone.

Dying.

Then, something changed.

An almost overwhelming wave of determination and love mixed with fear, closer and closer, gradually getting stronger, followed by the sensation of being _moved_ , carried. Finally, suspended _somewhere_ , but…

Safe. _Jazz_.

From that moment, Jazz was always close and for the spark, for Prowl, it was all that mattered. They were together again, _never alone_.

At least that was how the spark felt - but it could sense the sadness and longing radiating from Jazz sometimes, even if it was always quickly replaced by joy; _Prowl_ in his current state couldn’t quite understand the reason behind those emotions, but the thin, delicate tendrils still pressed against the walls of the container, trying to reach for the spark’s other half and soothe it, sending subtle pulses of love/calm/comfort. And if the container was lifted and pressed tightly to Jazz’s trembling frame, _Prowl_ could feel something…no, _someone_ else.

Someone unknown, yet so very familiar; gentle presence that simply felt _right._

A new spark.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place after the events of The Transformers: The Movie, in a reality where Prowl's spark survives Decepticon attack on the shuttle.


End file.
